An Evening at Oz

This is a first attempt at writing. The story is fictional, but based on actual people and events. I would appreciate any/all imput. I hope the story line is interesting.

An Evening at Oz

This party was going to be the coolest, hippest, wildest event that Harmonsburg had seen in forty years. I spent months doing research on the Hippie counter culture of the late 60’s and early 70’s. We were going to have Hendrix, Joplin, Jim Morrison, and the Grateful Dead playing all night. We scoured thrift shops and estate sales for granny glasses, fringed vests, sandals, tie dyed tee shirts and scruffy jeans. Mark let his hair grow long enough to pull back into a pony tail and I started going bra-less.

Our friends and relatives received invitations that decreed that they show up in hippie attire. All we were asking for was a clear warm night with plenty of stars. We were both children of the 60’s and this was our chance to relive it – even for only a few hours.

This was no ordinary ‘retro’ party; we were celebrating! Much to our surprise, the wooded property that we bought two years ago for the express purpose of building a retirement home turned out to be the site of an old hippie commune. We had no idea that the old stone foundation on our land once housed 35 hippies in the 1968-71 timeframe. We never gave much thought to the rotting bed frames and springs scattered around the property or the beer bottles piled in mounds here and there. There were rotted couches, rusted appliances and even a kitchen sink by the old foundation. During the construction phase of our home, we met many of our neighbors and every single one of them had stories to tell of the “old hippie farm.” Mark and I raised our eyebrows at the tales of young girls dancing naked and skinny dipping in the creek, the whispered free love that everyone exhibited or the rampant drug use. After much research we found out that a lot of the stories were true.
“How cool is that?” I said to Mark, “Let’s have a theme party and invite everyone we know!!” And here is where our story starts:

“Okay, Okay, Okay…no special brownies for the party—not that I’d even know where to get pot these days!” Mark just rolled his eyes and grinned. By now, he knows my quirky sense of humor. There’s no way we’d have pot laced brownies at this party, even if it is a hippie themed party. We are both in our mid to very late 50’s. Mark turns 60 in May of this year. Mark and I met each other a few years ago, after life had beaten us both up a bit. Hey, it made us stronger and we sure as heck appreciate each other more.

This was going to be an extremely interesting party to say the least. My parents, his parents and our mutual friends would be meeting each other for the first time. We were also celebrating the completion of our home and barn. What could go wrong?

“By the way, Cath” Mark said, “we are having an unexpected guest for the party tomorrow night.” At this point, my stomach is starting to hurt. “Who is it? And why are they coming to our party, we already have 35 people coming.”

Mark says, “do you remember when you googled our hippie farm and you found one of the people who had been there back in the day? Well, he emailed me that he’ll be in town this weekend and he wants to see the place!! Isn’t that great!! Don’t worry; he seems harmless enough. It’ll be a blast from the past!!” “Okay, I said—but, if he offers your mom a joint, there will be serious trouble.”

Mark’s mom, Fay is incredible. When you think of warm, giving, comforting and easy going, well, that would be Fay. Mark’s dad, Jack is a pistol. The first time I met him; he took out a notebook and started to fire questions at me. I knew I was in trouble then!! When I look at him and think of Mark in 30 years, I just smile.

My parents, on the other hand are totally different. My father is quiet and loves to read books. He knows just
about everything; there is no subject that he cannot discuss. My mom is outgoing. You could meet her on the street and within 5 minutes, she would know your life history. I am looking forward to our parents meeting, with a combination of trepidation and curiosity. At least this will divert my uneasiness at having a stranger, who used to be a hippie at our party. I guess it will be an interesting topic of conversation.

“Well,” Mark said, I have the lanterns up and down the driveway, the sound system is ready, I have the wood cut for the fire pit, and all the tables and chairs are set up outside.” There are 10 cases of Yuengling, 5 boxes of white and 5 boxes of red wine and all the pop is on ice. Do you think we will have enough beverages for everyone? I made a face and said, “I sure hope so, there isn’t enough Maalox and aspirin in the house, if everyone drinks all that!!”

Food will never be a problem as I am Italian and can always cook more than anyone can eat! I still would like to make a few trays of brownies, plain ‘ole chocolate fudge brownies, just in case. “Well, I am going to bed,” Mark said. “It’s 11:00 o’clock and we need to get up early.” Since snuggling with Mark is one of my favorite things to do, I was in my pj’s in a flash and it was lights out!

The morning sun filtered softly glowing through our lace curtains; where did the night go? We must have been so exhausted from all the preparations that we totally zonked out. Well, there is a ton to do today and we better get caffeinated quickly so that we can start getting ready!! Mark rolled over and said “let me know when the coffee is done, we have plenty of time.” The smell of fresh coffee soon filled the house; I ran into the kitchen and grabbed a huge mug of black coffee before it even finished dripping.

What a glorious day it was going to be! No forecast of rain, mid seventies, clear skies and a soft breeze! I found myself wandering over towards the old ‘hippie’ foundation. We had managed to clear quite a bit of the fallen branches and debris in our forest. I still had to watch where I was going; I sure didn’t want to trip over a stray root and end up sprawled on the ground. It only took a few minutes and there I was, standing in front of a fairly large pit that had nothing in it but old foundation stones. I sat down on an old log and contemplated my life. It’s amazing how things turn out. Who would have thought that I would have ended up living in the woods with the most wonderful man in the world? I had had a pretty rough time of it before I met Mark. My husband had passed away after a long and painful fight with Alzheimer’s disease. In the six months before his passing, there was nothing left of the man I had married 25 years ago…only a wasted shell of a man in a nursing home. I wasn’t in much better shape. Alzheimer’s is just as hard on the survivors as it is on the patients. Good friends, family and time helped to bring me back to the living. And then I met Mark.

People who know our story say that it is like a fairy tale. Mark had had his fair share of troubles too. Mark survived a few failed relationships and was active in the online dating scene. I had just started dabbling with online dating and had made several dates. I am in my 50’s; how else do you meet people in this day and age. I had been pretty fortunate that my few dates weren’t serial killers, psychos or weirdos. I dated a public defender, a teacher and an engineer. One night, I went online and was doing a search for people my age in my area. About 10 likely candidates popped up on my computer. I eliminated one after the other. The last one certainly caught my eye. He seemed like a nice man, his profile seemed harmless enough and he was extremely handsome. He was also extremely familiar. He looked just like my neighbor across the street!! Oh my!! I clicked on the button that let me “flirt” with him. Later that night, I received a “flirt” back from him. “Now what?” I said. I am not a member and cannot communicate with this man. Apparently, he is not a member either. I shrugged and thought, “Oh well. That’s the way it goes. I continued dating here and there. I never really found anyone that I clicked with. Everyone was pleasant enough…but there was NO chemistry.

It was a nice balmy day in May, I had worked all day and came home and really looked at my lawn. Wow, I had really neglected it. I needed to mow the lawn NOW. I got out the old electric mower and started to go back and forth over my small lawn. I happened to look across the street and I frowned. That looks like the man I ‘flirted’ online with a few weeks ago…..I wonder….. Well, he looked over too and said something. I couldn’t hear him over the lawnmower or the traffic up and down the street. I shook my head and put my hand to my ear to let him know I hadn’t heard him. He motioned “wait”, he walked over and we started talking. He got the most devilish smile and said “I saw you online” Oh, I was so embarrassed, I hung my head and turned beet red. He laughed and said, how else are people our age to meet. “Have you eaten dinner yet?” I said “No, I hadn’t.” “Well”, he said, “I have to run to the store. How about you finish the lawn, get cleaned up and we’ll go out and eat. We both have to eat!!”

After Mark left, I rushed through the lawn and ran in the house to get a shower. I had about 20 minutes to get ready. I was just applying my lipstick, when there was a knock at the door. It was Mark; he had changed his shirt, combed his hair and he smelled wonderful.

And that’s how we met. We slowly got to know each other and discovered we had a lot in common. What was most surprising of all was that Mark introduced me to camping and the great outdoors and I LOVED IT. We quickly decided that since we loved the outdoors so much, that we should buy some wooded land and build a cabin or a cottage. We traipsed though weeds, woods and mountainous land in PA, WV and OH. We finally found what we were looking for and built a beautiful house, which we called Cabbage. Since we couldn’t decide if we wanted a cabin or a cottage we decided combined the words to come up with Cabbage.

Finally, it was time for the party. The sky was clear and the stars were out. It was a nice cool evening with a soft breeze. The food was ready, the beer was on ice, the wine and the wine glasses were out just in time because I could see a caravan of cars coming up the driveway! Oh, how wonderful to see all of our friends and family laughing and smiling in anticipation of our Hippie theme party. I’ve never seen so many jeans, tie dye and jingling jewelry in my life!! After a quick tour of the house, everyone grabbed a drink and a chair and sat by the fire ring. Mark’s brother JB was just about to play a tune on his guitar when I looked down the driveway and saw a man slowly walking towards us. “Who in the world is that?” I asked Mark. “OMG”, he said, “that’s Bill, the hippie who used to live in the old farmhouse!”

We gave a hurried explanation to everyone and walked down to meet our surprise guest. Bill was about 65 years old, a bit grizzly and worn; he had on frayed jeans, a beaded vest and ancient sandals,–but, what a twinkle in his eye! We could tell right away that he would fit right in.
After introduction all around, we begged Bill to tell us about the Hippies “back in the day.” “Give me a beer,” he grinned. “I got some stories that’ll curl your hair!!”

“There were about 15 of us, mostly in our early twenties. Some had dropped out of school to experience the counter culture first hand. Some were from rich, poor or just plain middle class families. We all had one thing in common-we were filled with a hunger for new experience—we weren’t going to get stuck in the traditions of our parents. We wanted to make a difference, change the world, be our own person and commune with nature. We all somehow ended up in a small town in California at a commune called Holiday. It was pretty well established when we got there; there was no room for new people or new ideas. We were a transient group; there were always people coming and going. When one of the visitors invited us to live on his property in Meadville, PA…we jumped on the chance to start our own commune. So, we hopped into a couple of vans and drove cross country. The trip cross country took about three weeks. When we needed money for gas or food, we stopped and sang all of the popular folk songs. Many people treated us kindly; but mostly looked at us as if we were curiosities. So much happened along the way; there were flat tires, overheated radiators, sun burns and childbirth. Kathy and Mike joined us somewhere in Kansas. Kathy was extremely pregnant; they had no family and nowhere else to go, so they joined us. Sunflower was
born right after we crossed the Ohio border into Pennsylvania.

We arrived at the farmhouse just before dusk. We pooled all of our food and came up with a bizarre hodgepodge of a meal that was somehow satisfying. Here we were with a roof over our heads, in the country communing with nature. It was a new beginning. After our strange repast, we all grabbed our bed rolls or sleeping bags and fell instantly asleep. Morning brought sunshine, fresh air and neighbors. I think it was curiosity more than anything, but they came with milk, bread, fruit and vegetables. Some of the farmers gave us advice on farming and some suggested that we might be better off somewhere else. Not everyone was kind or generous. Meadville was a small farming community and hippies were completely alien to the town folk. The locals used to get in their cars and drive by on the weekend to rubberneck. Some of us took it in stride, but some enjoyed the shock value of dancing nude on a sunny Sunday afternoon. After about six weeks, tolerance to our difference has worn thin. It was apparent it was time to move on. We all went our separate ways, but we never forgot our time here at Oz.”

After Bill stopped talking, we all were silent. We had been mesmerized by his story and I think we all had gone back in time, just a little. I cleared my throat and refilled everyone’s glass. “Let’s make a toast to our newfound friend Bill!” “How wonderful it was that you could share your story with us; it certainly gives us a new appreciation of our property and its history.”

I know we were all feeling a bit sorry for Bill; after all he was an old hippie who seemed to be struggling. Life had most likely been hard on him. After all, what does an old hippie do for a living? “Bill,” I said. “What can we do to help you?” “I am sure we could come up with a few hundred dollars and that would tide you over until you found a place to stay.

Bill, all of a sudden looked a bit sheepish and I was worried that we had embarrassed him. “When Mark called and
told me about your party, I was so excited.” he said. “Wild horses couldn’t keep me away. I had an old cedar
chest in my attic. I pulled out old pictures, bell bottoms, tie died shirts and this old fringed vest.” We were all looking at Bill with a slightly stupefied look, whether it was from the wine or his journey down memory lane. I am not sure. “I don’t understand, Bill? Don’t you always dress like this?” That twinkle in his eye appeared again. “Heck no”, he said. After the hippie farm broke up back in the late 60’s. I went back to school and got my master’s degree. I am a psychotherapist in Pittsburgh now. I have a huge clientele, a condo in Shadyside and a vacation home in Myrtle Beach”!! I am so sorry to have fooled you all, but I couldn’t resist getting into character for my trip down memory lane! Once we recovered from this jaw dropping news, we all started laughing hysterically. We have GOT to have one of these parties every year, I said. And that is how we started our annual Oz Hippie Party!!